Yet In His Eyes
by Tierney Beckett
Summary: Set within a year after POTO. When she goes into labor, Christine fears that Raoul will discover her secret of the night before their marriage. One-shot.


A/N: I've never written for this fandom before and I probably never will again. But this idea got in my head and wouldn't go away. The lyrics in 'Love Never Dies' say that Christine went to the Phantom the night before she was married to Raoul. However, she seems SO sure that Gustave is the Phantom's son and I wondered if there was a way she somehow knew right from the beginning. Using the 25th anniversary cast, since Ramin and Sierra originated the roles in LND, I hit on this solution. I hope you enjoy the story. I probably should've edited a little more, but I got a bit impatient. :-)

Disclaimer: I don't own any of this.

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Christine sighed as her ladies' maid placed a cool, wet cloth against her head. She'd been warned over the past months that it took a long time for babies to make their way into the world. She hadn't counted on THIS long, however. Between the oppressive heat and the pains, she had almost been able to put aside the fear that had welled up within her the moment her labor began.

Almost.

Keeping her secret was almost as exhausting as the pregnancy itself. For the first few weeks after she found out about the baby, she had become withdrawn. Her imagination worked overtime as it conjured up several scenarios in which Raoul learned of her betrayal. The most devastating of these was a repetitive nightmare in which the baby was born with horrific yet familiar deformities.

When her maid had tentatively mentioned that her mistress didn't seem happy about having a baby, Christine made more of an effort to behave like her old self. It wasn't easy at first, but her brief time as a leading lady on the stage seemed to come in handy when it came to her new and unenviable situation. She drew Raoul into making plans for the nursery, positively sparkling whenever he initiated making any plans himself. She played the part so well that, after a couple of months, she was able to shove her fear into a hidden corner of her mind.

Raoul, although often busy with matters of finance, was an attentive husband and father-to-be. He often played the piano in the evenings, giving her the chance to sing because he knew how much she missed her opera world. They talked more than they ever had during their courtship, speaking of their future together and their child's future. Raoul, contrary to most men of his stature, was determined that the baby would be a girl. A daughter as exquisitely lovely as her mother, he said, whom he could spoil and pet and who would keep her younger brothers in line. Christine grew to love him even more than she thought was possible and the dreams that recounted the night before her wedding slowly faded away, aiding in burying her fears even further.

With the first pain, however, all the fears and doubts had come rushing back. It had been so easy to pretend everything was fine, to play the part of a wife who loved no other man but her husband. Now everything was muddled again and Christine feared what was to come. If the baby she carried was…his, would it be as her nightmare had shown her?

She was afraid of losing Raoul, she was frightened of what would become of her should he ever find out what she had done. Oddly enough, however, she was even more concerned about her feelings towards her child. Could she truly love a baby with terrifying features? HIS mother clearly hadn't been capable of doing so. Was she any better?

Feeling another pain begin, Christine bit her lip, determined not to voice her hurt. Raoul would hear if she did and her guilt was so crushing at this stage that she couldn't bear the thought of making him worry even more. He had brought the doctor up several hours ago and Christine couldn't remember ever seeing him look so frightened. Not even when he had come to the lair looking for her.

When the next pain started so quickly, however, Christine was unable to hold herself in check. She cried out, almost drowning out the rather loud voice of the doctor ordering her to push. The next few minutes were a blur of incredible pain and noise. The edges of her vision began to go gray and the room started to spin. Just before she was plunged into darkness, she heard the sound of a baby's cry.

"….very weak….constant rest….not impossible….definitely inadvisable…"

The hushed voice brought Christine around slowly and her eyes began to flutter open. Some light streamed into the room through the small gap in the curtains, informing her that at least a few hours had passed. Even that light was a little too much for her head, however and she quickly closed her eyes again. When she was able to form a coherent thought, she could only think of one thing.

"My baby," she said, her voice sounding cracked and dry. Rather like her throat felt.

Almost instantly, she found herself being pulled gently into a sitting position and a glass of water was put to her lips. Thankfully, she took a drink, becoming mildly annoyed when whoever was holding the glass refused to tip it too much.

"Easy now. You'll get sick if you drink it too fast, my love."

Raoul. Now Christine opened her eyes, although she was afraid of what she might find written on his face. When she saw only a smile and happiness shining through the piercing blue eyes she adored, she relaxed into his arms.

"My baby?" she repeated.

"He's beautiful, Christine," Raoul assured her, laying her back against the pillows as gently as he had pulled her away from them. "And healthy, the doctor says. Collette has him in the nursery. I'll send for her to bring him back in."

He made a motion with his hand, obviously signaling someone to fetch the young nurse maid they had hired only two weeks ago. Christine, tired of lying down, struggled to sit up again. Raoul helped her, pulling pillows up behind her back.

"A son? I have a son?" she was, truthfully, rather stunned. Raoul had been so sure it was a girl that she had, at some point, begun to accept his proclamation as fact.

"WE have a son," he corrected her. "A beautiful, healthy son."

She shook her head slightly, trying to wrap her mind around everything.

"I'm…I'm so sorry, Raoul. Are you terribly disappointed?"

Raoul stared at her, clearly not understanding the reason for the apology or the question.

"Well, you wanted a daughter. It's all you've talked about for months. You even named her. And now you have a son. I just wasn't sure if…" she trailed off as she noticed that he seemed almost amused by her small rant, although he showed concern as he brushed her hair back from her face.

"We have a son, Christine. We have a child. He binds us together in a way that even our love for each other never could. And I wouldn't trade him for a million girls."

He punctuated his statement with a light kiss to her forehead and Christine immediately felt better.

"You're right of course, Raoul. I wouldn't trade him, either. I was only worried about your own disappointment. And there is plenty of time for us to bring our little girl into the world."

Colette appeared with at that moment and so Christine missed the flicker of sadness that passed over Raoul's face. She was completely focused on the bundle in Collette's arms. The moment her son was settled into the crook of her elbow, Christine felt elation and a sense of completion that she hadn't truly felt since her last performance.

"Oh, Raoul," she breathed as she gazed into the sleeping face of her son. "Have you ever seen anything so perfect?"

"No, I haven't," he replied. Looking up, Christine found her husband staring directly at her. Blushing slightly, she smiled before turning back to the baby.

"Have you thought of a name?" she asked.

"I'll…name the next one," Raoul informed her. She had only a moment to wonder at the catch in his voice. He moved on too quickly. "Why don't you choose? He'll need a good strong name."

Lightly, she traced the silky soft curve of her son's face with the back of her fingers. There could only be one name for this baby.

"I should like to name him Gustave," she declared.

"Then Gustave he shall be," her husband agreed, then laughed. "Look at that. Our boy is a genius. Only a few hours old and already responding to his name."

The baby was beginning to stir and make slightly plaintive sounds. Christine made tiny shushing noises, not really realizing she was doing so. It was enough to placate her son for at least a moment, though. When he opened his eyes, the gazes of mother and son locked and held for what seemed an eternity to Christine.

She knew those eyes. Had seen them full of hate, of madness, of desperation. Had felt the full force of their tenderness and their anger. She had seen a depth of pain in them so tangible she could almost feel it herself and an intensity of love that she knew was capable of completely consuming her. The eyes that had pulled her into a firestorm of emotions once and had entranced her just as much as the voice ever had.

HIS eyes.

His eyes in this perfect little face belonging to this innocent child. Christine felt panic begin to set in. Surely Raoul could see the truth. Her secret had been discovered and now both she and her child would suffer for it. A divorce would surely be more of a scandal than Raoul would want to visit upon his family name. But she had, with her selfish actions, doomed all of them to a lifetime of unhappiness. Raoul would love her no longer and he certainly wouldn't love a child that wasn't truly his.

"I think he might be getting hungry," her husband said, startling her out of her ruminations. She glanced up at him, surprised to see only contentment in his expression. He leaned down, giving her a real kiss this time. "I need to attend to a few things, my love, but I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Of…Of course," she responded, too stunned to respond beyond those two words.

Raoul walked out, leaving Christine alone with Collette. The young woman, who had three children of her own, set about showing her what to do in order to feed little Gustave. Then she, too, left to give mother and son a little bit of privacy.

Christine stared down in wonder at her son as he nursed. She found it remarkable that the child was unmarked in any way. It was surely some kind of miracle. In her heart, Christine knew she should tell Raoul. She should have told him from the beginning. But now…now there was an innocent baby involved. In a way, it was almost like HE had finally received the second chance she had tried to give him on that night all those months ago. Bending slightly, she planted a soft kiss on Gustave's head.

"Our son," she whispered. "My son."


End file.
